


Coffee Time

by icybluepenguin



Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Blow Job, Coffee, F/M, Food Play, Oral Sex, Sex, Smut, actor!tom, explicit - Freeform, hybrid!Tom, laterovaries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 09:54:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2305535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icybluepenguin/pseuds/icybluepenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the barisita Tom's been flirting with spills coffee on him, he takes the chance to make a move.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaterOvaries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaterOvaries/gifts).



He’s been coming into the shop for a couple of weeks now.  Sometimes multiple times a day.  He’s filming nearby and seemed to come in for his caffeine fix whenever he wasn’t needed on set.  The first time you saw him, he couldn’t stop staring at your breasts while you took his order and steamed the milk- not that you minded having a tall, hot, and famous Englishman obviously eyeing your curves.  Since then, he’s been flirting with you, and not subtly, every time he comes by.  And you’ve given as good as you gotten; you’re pretty proud of the way you’ve kept yourself from falling all over him, keeping your interactions sassy and confident even though you’re nursing a huge crush on him.

It’s nearly closing when he comes in.  Today, he’s wearing a pretty stunning dark blue button-down shirt under his leather jacket.  He’s left the top two buttons undone and you can see just a few chest hairs poking out.  It’s a mind-melting combination of “classy” and “bad boy” and it is definitely messing with your head.  You watch him stroll towards the counter and you wonder, not for the first time, how you can be so attracted to the way he _walks_.  Although that might have something to do with the very noticeable bulge in the front of his pants.  His tight, black, bulge-hugging pants…

"I’m sorry, what did you say?" you stutter when you realize he’d been talking while you eyed his crotch.

"I said, good evening, darling."  He grins, and you know he saw you ogle him.  "I’ll have the usual."  He lets his eyes travel over you slowly.  You get the distinct impression that he’s mentally undressing you and you’re horrified to find yourself blushing.  Well, you suppose you deserve it for staring at him like that- so much for keeping your cool.  His tongue darts out to wet his lips when he reaches the waistband of your jeans- as if he’s thinking about what he could do there and you can’t _believe_ you just thought that- then returns his gaze to your face.

You swallow, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, even as the feeling of being thoroughly eye-fucked makes you press your thighs together. 

"Sure, Tom," you drawl, trying to hide your obvious reaction to him by distracting him with your accent.  He’s said before that he finds it adorable.  "Coming right up.  A swirl of chocolate on top today?"  You really ham up the word ‘swirl’ and he laughs, nodding, which dislodge a few strands of black hair to curl on his forehead.

He’s sitting at a nearby table in the empty store, with his legs sprawled a mile-wide and his jacket laid on the back of the chair, when you bring him his drink.  His seat is close enough to let him watch you make his coffee.  You’re sure his eyes had never left you as you pulled the shots and steamed the milk.  You had squirmed a little while you worked, trying not to think about those chest hairs and if they were the same color as ones down lower and the way he was carefully rolling up his sleeves to reveal well-defined forearms…

You extend the mug towards Tom as you walk and that is the moment you’ll never forget.  You’re not sure what caused your foot to collapse out from under you, but suddenly- with a small shriek and curse- you’re half in his lap and his coffee is soaking into his jeans.  You get a good, close-up look at his crotch from where you are, your top half at eye-level with it and your bottom half splayed out between his legs.

Tom yelps in surprise, then looks down at you.  His face changes from shock to obvious delight. “Darling, if you wanted to get on your knees for me that badly, you could have just said so.  No need to spill on me.”  He tilts your chin up with a finger and your breath stops dead at the look in his eyes, glittering with laughter but primal and _hungry_.  “That’s what I’ve been dreaming about doing to _you-_ and not with coffee, if you know what I mean.”

"What?" you say, dumbfounded, completely unable to process what’s going on.  Is he talking about… _coming_ … _on_ you?  _Oh fuck, that would be hot,_ you think, pussy twitching at the idea.  But it had to just be a dirty joke; he’d joked like that with you often and he couldn’t possibly be serious.  With a surge of embarrassment you scramble to your feet, realizing where you are and that the coffee has completely drenched his pants.  “Uh, let me get you a towel-” you stammer, rushing behind the bar to find one.

Tom follows close behind you, which you chalk up to not wanting to wait for you to bring him the towel.  You grab a hand towel from the shelf on the wall behind the counter and when you turn around, Tom is stalking towards you.  “Stalking” is the right word- his eyes are absolutely predatory and his natural grace has morphed into something deadly, menacing, and entirely arousing.  He looks as if he will eat you alive, bit by bit, and savoring every piece of you while he does.

"Darling," he whispers when he gets to you.  "Could you help me out of these wet trousers… and into yours?"

You can’t help it.  You snort at his cheesy line and roll your eyes.  Despite the sex rolling off of him in waves, he grins too.

Then he’s grabbing your hips and dragging you hard to him, his lips warm on yours as he parts them with his tongue.  You can smell him now that he’s so close, crisp and clean and something indefinably manly.  His hands slide up your back, one threading in your hair and the other on your spine pressing you tighter against him.  He is so warm; you can feel his heat sinking into you from his palms, his chest, his leg that steps forward to box you in against the shelf.  He tugs your hair gently, urging your head back and deepening the kiss until you can’t think of anything but the feel and smell and sound of him around you.

He pulls back slowly to look at you but shifts his body even closer, pressed full-length against you.  “ _Fuck_ , darling, I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he breathes, his pupils wide and dark with arousal.

You nod in a daze, your skin heated and sensitive to the smallest sensation.  You’ve never been kissed like that before, able to sense the storm of pure need behind his careful, precise control.  He _wants_ you and there’s no question about it now.  You run your fingers through his black hair, feeling almost as if the digits don’t belong to you, his long silky locks sliding over your skin.  He hums a little pleased noise, leaning his forehead against yours as you play with his hair.

"Do you know what else I’ve wanted for so long?"  His lips brush yours again, then move down to your neck, nuzzling and nipping, insistent as you tilt your head to give him better access. "To hear you moan my name in that cute little accent of yours."  He sucks the skin of your throat for a moment before raising his head.  "And I am going to do that today, too."

You shiver at the intensity in his smooth voice.  But you don’t have an exhibition kink and the door’s not locked and the shades are only half closed.  “Tom, I- not here…”

"Yes, here," he growls, suddenly aggressive, his voice husky.  "I’ve gotten off too many times to the idea of taking you on this bar to not do it when I have the chance."  The hand on your back slips down to cup your ass, jerking you against his hips, his erection obvious when he rocks into you rhythmically.  He returns to your neck, running his tongue delicately up to your ear, whispering,  "Do you have any idea?  Could you not tell _how much_ I wanted you, love?  There was that day you wore that purple shirt, the one that rides up when you reach above your head… I couldn’t even wait after seeing that sliver of skin.  I had to go into the loo here to think about you, with your pretty mouth hot around my cock…”

“Oh,” you exhale slowly, still feeling like this is some sort of waking dream.  Your brain is fuzzy on the edges and your eyes are slightly unfocused, dreamy.  You feel as if you don’t exist where he’s not touching you, like he’s holding you to reality.  “You should have said so.”  You run your hands from his hair to his neck, tracing his jugular, over his shoulders, and down his stomach.  You dip your fingers just barely into the waistband of his pants.  “That’s my specialty…” 

Moving back up, you begin to undo his shirt buttons until you’re back down to his pants.  Your fingers tease back and forth, slowly stroking his stomach, brushing against the sparse hairs there.  His skin is so smooth and soft but the muscles are tense beneath your touch.  He shrugs off his shirt absently, letting it fall to the floor.

You undo the button on his fly and lower the zipper, watching his face as you do.  He’s practically quivering with anticipation, biting his lower lip between his teeth.  Lucky for him, you’re not in the mood to tease him too much.  You want his cock in your mouth as much as he does.  You’ve thought and dreamt about it since you first saw him.  You push down his jeans and boxers while you drop to your knees. 

"Take off your shirt," he rasps, staring at you avidly.  You yank your t-shirt over your head and unsnap the clasp of your bra, letting it fall away as you lean forward.

He smells like coffee and male musk, which is a wonderful combination in your mind.  You kiss his belly button and move down, tickling the light trail of hair with delicate pecks.  His cock, hot and hard, rubs between your breasts as you move and he groans, his hands gripping your shoulders.  You lay tender kisses on his inner thighs, then his balls, taking one at a time in your mouth and sucking gently.  Wiry hairs tickle your nose and cheeks, surrounding you with his scent.  Then you raise up on your knees, looking up at him and smirking before sticking out your tongue and swiping it over the tip of his cock.  It twitches violently at the contact at the same time as Tom gasps.  Your smirk widens and you slide your lips over him, letting him into your eager mouth at a snail’s pace.

"Oh fuck, darling, oh god-"  His teeth are clenched and his voice sounds strained when he says your name next.  And you’ve only begun.

He tastes like coffee, too.  Dark and rich flavors mix with the light salty taste of his skin.  It’s an intoxicating blend and you suck him further into your mouth to get as much as you can.  Your tongue flicks over the smooth wet shaft as you pull back, coaxing helpless whimpers from him.  His fingers flex on your shoulders with each firm lick across the tip of his cock.  He is thick and heavy in your mouth, and you suck greedily at him, wanting nothing more right now than to hear him curse your name like that again and again.  And he does.

You glance up his long body, enjoying the sight of his face as he watches you move up and down his length.  His eyes are wide and dark, his mouth hanging open slightly.  You lick your palm, circling the base of his cock, stroking and twisting, while your mouth concentrates on his tip.  You flutter your tongue under the head, making him jerk and moan in frustration, his hands moving from your shoulders into your hair.  Long fingers tangle in your locks, tugging just a little when you engulf him again.

His voice is little more than a whine now as he invokes your name and you grin to yourself, proud that you can reduce him to wordlessness like this.  As much as you love his dark, velvet voice, the knowledge that Tom Hiddleston is speechless because of your mouth on him makes you clench your thighs together, shifting your weight to try and relieve the building ache in between them.

His hands tighten in your hair, pulling, demanding that you move at his pace.  He hits the back of your throat and you moan, tongue pressed tight against him as he moves.  Your noise seems to wake something in him and his hips start rocking into your mouth.  You brace your free hand on his thigh as he picks up speed, then you move it to grip his firm ass.  Saliva drips from your mouth, no matter how tight you keep your lips, wetting your breasts.  His eyes are closed now, his head thrown back and tendons in sharp relief in his neck.

"Your mouth, fuck darling, your _mouth_ … I can’t-” he moans above you, twisting his fingers hard in your hair as his hips buck.  He tries to urge you off him, but you refuse to move, only sucking on him harder in response.  You give his ass a gentle squeeze before trailing your finger back across his thigh and up behind his balls, rubbing the sensitive skin there.  His breath hitches in surprise.

"God, I’m going to- oh…"  His throaty moan of your name turns into a series of gritted whimpers just as he spills in your mouth, his hips still moving erratically.  You gulp, swallowing around him, but some drips down your chin.  He falls back against the shelf behind him, opening his eyes to see you catch the drips on your fingers and lick them off.  He tastes delicious, salty and a little sweet, and you savor the last drops as he watches.  Tom shudders at the sight, mumbling curses in conjunction with your name under his breath.

He runs his fingers through his hair, dislodging some of his curls, clearly trying to compose himself.  “Oh god, love, that was _amazing_.  Seems I have some time to kill now, though.  I’m not through with you yet,” he winks at you, reaching down to help you to your feet.  He pulls you in for another kiss, devouring your mouth and gripping your arms tightly- as if you’d ever try to get away.  “And I’ve got some ideas…”

Tom lifts you effortlessly by the waist to perch on the bar beside the espresso machine.  His big hands support you as he leans you back, then he stands clear to admire you, wearing nothing but your jeans. “Darling, your breasts are fucking incredible,” he whispers, almost reverently, running his fingertips over them, the feather-light touch raising goosebumps in their wake.

He moves to stand between your knees.  There’s still foam in the silver steam pitcher sitting on the machine next to you, which you remember when he reaches for it.  He dips his finger inside, then trails soft foam over your nipples, circling them until they’re covered in creamy bubbles and standing tall.  He dips his head, pulling one into his mouth, surrounding the sensitive flesh with wet heat.  You groan, shifting on the wooden counter. His tongue laves over your nipple as he sucks, cleaning off every trace of milk, your fingers tangled in his hair to hold him in place. 

"Oh god," you whimper when his teeth graze the other one, nibbling you like a tasty treat.  His fingers trace your ribs with teasing pressure then grasp your hips when they rock up against him.  You’re aching for friction, anything to soothe the throb in your clit as he strokes you with tongue and hands.  Better yet, if he would remove your jeans and slide his long fingers into you, if he would curl them just so and press hard…

But instead Tom reaches for the squeeze bottle of chocolate you use for latte art.

"What are you doing?" you ask, leaning up a little to watch, a note of disappointment creeping into your voice.  Every nerve is on fire, burning for him, and all you want on this Earth is to feel him- any part of him- inside you.

"Marking you as mine."  His tongue is held between his teeth as he carefully writes T-O-M on your stomach.  It tickles and you squirm until he growls and stares threateningly at you.  He doesn’t break eye contact as he flicks the first letter with his tongue, smearing chocolate syrup into your skin.  With excruciatingly careful movements, he licks and sucks up each letter, leaving no trace of the syrup behind.  You can’t stop yourself from imagining what those sort of wet, long, slow strokes would feel like on your folds, picturing his dark head just a little lower, between your legs.  Seeing his bright blue eyes peering up your body at you as he pushes you over the edge.  You’re a shuddering wreck by the time he’s finished, desperate and sopping wet- and he hasn’t even touched your cunt yet.

He leans over you and brushes his lips against yours, his mouth sweet and rich with the last bits of chocolate.  Without breaking the kiss, he undoes your jeans, sliding his hand down inside to cup your sex over your panties, flexing his fingers slightly.  You arch up immediately, whining for more, and he laughs into your mouth.  He pulls your hips to the edge of the bar, lifting a little to tug your pants off.

"Make that sound again, darling," he murmurs.  "That little whimper-mewl.  It’s so fucking hot, like you’re about to come all over my hand with the barest little touch…"  His fingers dance along the elastic of your panties, little tip-taps everywhere but where you need it. 

You _snarl_ at him even as your pelvis rocks into his touch, bracing yourself up on your elbows to glare at him.  “Fuck you, Thomas.  Are you going to fuck me already?”  Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer.  “I can tell you’re good to go by now.”

That is an understatement.  His cock is standing tall and proud, now nestled on your mound.  You can feel how hard he is through the fabric of your underwear, your legs tightening around him so you can grind yourself on it.  Tom looks down at you, licking his lips, before grabbing hold of your panties in both hands.  There is a loud rip and his heated skin meets yours with a mutual groan.

"Hey, I liked those!"

"Oh, I’m sorry, darling."  He smiles with a hint of mischief.  "How about this… I don’t film tomorrow, so let’s go shopping and I’ll buy you six new pairs of sinfully lacey knickers."  His lips tease your ear and he whispers in a dark voice,  "Then I’ll spend the rest of the day tearing each one off of you."

You shiver, a weightless feeling fluttering in your stomach.  “Only six?” you ask cheekily, despite the way that flutter has made its way south, warming you even more.

He growls, biting your earlobe, fingers digging hard into your hips.  “Think you can handle me more than six times?”

“Fuck me and let’s find out.”

You bury your fingers in his hair again, dragging him to you to kiss.  One of his hands moves from your hip and you feel his cock teasing at you for just an instant before he sinks slowly into you.  You can’t stop the long moan that escapes your mouth, or the way your toes curl from the satisfying feeling of fullness.

Tom’s head drops to your shoulder when he’s fully sheathed inside you.  “You feel so fucking good,” he groans into your neck.  “So wet and tight, oh god, so _wet_.”  His hips move experimentally, which draws another moan from you, your hands splayed out on his strong back.

You pull him closer, his upper body plastered to yours as he adds a little extra push to the end of each stroke.  He’s hitting just the right spot to make you arch up into him, gasping his name.  His teeth graze your shoulder, his mouth hot on your skin, then his hands replace his mouth, pulling you down into his thrusts.  The new force has you keening in moments as his pelvis grinds on your clit, hips rising to meet his in a lewd rhythm.  Your body is tense, hovering right on the edge about to tumble off…

He surges forward, hard, and you seize around him, arching and grasping his back, vaguely aware of him above you, saying your name reverently.

"Beautiful," he murmurs with a smile when you open your eyes.  "Can I make you do it again?"

You roll your hips up, squeezing around him as he hisses.   “Can you?”

His eyes are dark as he looks down at you, arms braced on either side of your head.  You’re surrounded by him, trapped by him in every sense.  A small smile dances across his lips before fading into a stern line.  “Do you like it a little rough, love?”  His voice is hoarse and deep.

"God, Tom, yes."

He stands up, yanking your hips against his with a firm grip.  His thrusts are fast and hard immediately, his head bent to watch himself sliding into you.  His dark curls bounce with every slam.  You writhe, but he’s holding you too tightly for you to rock against him.  He’s holding you at the perfect angle, gasps and whimpers pouring from your throat.

"Harder," you beg, climbing towards another peak, reaching down between your bodies to circle your clit.  As soon as your fingers touch it, sparks of sharp pleasure jolt through you and you know you won’t last much longer.

"Yes, oh fuck yes, whatever you want, you’re so good…" he groans, hips pistoning with more force, his eyes glued to your dancing fingers.  His tongue, pink and wet, slips over his lips as he watches with dark eyes and you groan in turn.

Tom suddenly slaps your hand away, replacing it with his own.  He presses down on your clit, rubbing fast circles until you cry out, falling into sweet release.  He doesn’t change his pace, slamming into you with abandon until he gasps, throwing his head back, cursing in decreasing volume and then falling forward over you, his head pillowed on your breasts.  You watch his broad, flawless back rise and fall with each quick breath, and let your fingers play in the short damp hairs at the base of his neck.  He hums, nuzzling into your cleavage.

"You are marvelous, darling," he whispers, kissing each nipple before reluctantly pulling away.

You sit up on the bar as he stands, your body slow and heavy.  You can’t hide the pleased grin on your face.  He was everything you’d hoped for.  You slip off the counter to your feet, your knees still a little shaky as you gather your clothes.  God, but you feel great after that, sexy and sated.  You had even forgotten about the open door during…

You glance over at the door as you remember.  “I can’t believe no one came in,” you breathe, giving a quiet laugh in relief.

"Oh, someone did," Tom mentions casually while waving his hand towards the door.

"What!" you shriek, adrenaline coursing through you and erasing the post-sex haze in your brain.  You clutch your shirt to your bare chest, whirling to stare at him wild-eyed.  You were going to lose your job- everyone in town would know why-

Tom is laughing at you, his mouth split in a huge grin and that simultaneously charming and infuriating chuckle coming from it.  “I’m just joking, darling.  I threw the deadbolt when I came in and saw we were alone.  Didn’t think you’d make the first move, though.”  He tries to gather you in his arms, but you hit him upside the head in annoyance before letting him soothe your panic from his “joke.”

"That was an accident.  I did not _intend_ to spill coffee on you, you smug-ass British bastard.”

"Sure you didn’t, love.  Let me help you close up, then you can come back to my hotel for round two.  And three…"


End file.
